


sunday morning, at a funeral.

by rolie_polie



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Gen, Grief/Mourning, I Love Simon fucking Lewis, Simon doesn't come back, im so sorry, is this a character study???, maybe who knows not me, the alternate ending nobody wanted or asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 05:44:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10507479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rolie_polie/pseuds/rolie_polie
Summary: in which Simon never comes back, and the sun burns a little less bright.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. I have not read the books.  
> 2\. I'm disregarding that one thing Rapha said abt Simon starving in the ground for all eternity; a) bc i forgot that part of the conversation at first when i started writing this lol and b) cause i was too lazy to adjust things  
> I recently fell in love w Shadowhunters and by extention Malec and Saphael so excuse me while i go fucking D I E.

**i.**  
In the graveyard, it's silent. No wind blows through the trees, no wolves howl in the distance, not a sniff or a breath is heard. They stand, staring at dirt, the brown contrasts heavily against the green of the grass. A newly dug grave. And Clary swears, every few moments she sees the ground shift, like he's here, he's coming back. But it's only the tears in her eyes, building, building, building. She tricks herself, holding her breath, closing her eyes and the tears fall.  
_He's coming back._  
_He's coming back._  
The moon sinks lower, and nothing happens. Sunrise is a whispered promise, the limit to this desperate attempt at saving her best friend. And when she opens her eyes, and Raphael has left at the last possible moment, she knows. It didn't work. It didn't work, and Simon is gone. Forever, the only thing that is certain in death. Eternity has taken him away, and it's the coldest embrace Simon never deserved.  
She knows this pain. She remembers it well, returning home to find her mother gone, missing, absent. Only now it hurts more because there is no way to bring him back. It feels like her heart has stopped beating, and finally, she breathes, stumbles.  
" _No_."  
Clary whispers it, reaching for the grave. Some feral part of her wants to tear it up, rip Simon out and shake him back to life. She doesn't get that far, instead falling against Jace, because she is shaking so hard she can hardly move.  
" _No!_ "  
Jace doesn't speak, and at the very least, she's thankful for that. The only thing words could serve to do right now is make her scream. She finally breaks down, an angry combination of weeping and yelling.  
" _Simon!_ "  
It's a broken cry, her voice cracking like glass. One last plea, as if hearing the voice of his best friend will wake him up. But it doesn't.

 **ii.**  
He didn't know Simon. He knew the jealous, love-stricken puppy. He knew the awkward rambling. But Jace didn't know Simon. Not like Clary did.  
The one thing Jace does know is that he shouldn't be dead. Not like this, not at the hands of a vampire.  
At some point, Clary sinks to the ground, and Jace follows her. He refuses to let go because somehow he knows that if he did, she would break apart like a fragile china doll, carelessly dropped by cruel hands.  
He cradles her head, tucked beneath his chin and she is so _broken_. Somewhere, within his need to comfort, Jace knows that there is a hollow sadness he feels too. An icy cold that slowly crawls over his heart and inside his lungs, making oxygen feel harsh and painful. He doesn't want to breathe anymore. It doesn't feel right anymore, now the world is lacking one more sunlight smile to share their atmosphere with.  
And had Simon come back, Jace can only wonder what that would be like. Maybe, in some strange way, they could have been friends. Maybe Jace could have known Simon. But now he never will, and he aches holding fire in his arms, trying to prevent those flames from dying. He's sick of the casualties and the fading light of their world and he aches for this loss. For never knowing what may have been. For never knowing the body that is now trapped in the earth, soul tortured with a brutal, undeserved death.  
Jace fucking _aches_.

 **iii.**  
He was a whirlwind of mere seconds. A blip on the centuries to come, the unwanted years immortality had given Raphael. His few moments with Simon Lewis pales in comparison to all of that time.  
And yet he finds himself sat in the DuMort, staring at nothing, his eyes focused instead on the past.  
Simon never stopped talking. For someone in the category of mundane, Simon was so very far from that. And perhaps he thinks this only because it's been so long since he's truly _spoken_ to a mundane. But Raphael still finds himself unable to stop thinking. Simon was stupidly brave. More stupid, but still brave. Brave enough to hold himself steady while trapped and unsure of his future, and stupid enough to thank the same man who kidnapped him in the first place, simply for letting him go. Brave enough to return, stupid enough to do so in spite of knowing the risks.  
Simon was strange. He rambled, hopping from one topic to the next, so nervous and yet so very _friendly_. Strange enough to make Raphael smile, to make him care, even if only a little.  
He wonders if maybe he's the reason Camille killed Simon. Maybe he's gone too soft, soft enough to care about a _mundane_ , and one he hardly knows no less. It makes his anger flare because it's so wrong, so god damn _wrong_. And though Raphael knows he will hide behind the accords no matter what accusations are made, there is a part of him that will never be able to deny that Simon _meant_ something. Something small, something he can let go of, but still something.  
And so Raphael orders his clan to lock Camille up, put her in a casket and _keep_ her there, let her fucking rot, he doesn't care. She deserves it, deserves to be buried in the dark, not like Simon. Simon was a reminder of the daytime, the burning light that Raphael would never feel again.  
And as he sits in the dark, eyes closed, he can't look out his window. But he has a feeling that if he could, he would see the sun duller, burning less bright for the world as it has lost a beam of light so much more significant than anyone will ever know.  
Raphael is still, quiet, silent, empty. He aches for Simon Lewis.


End file.
